Peril Strait and Sitka
As we made our way toward Sitka, our morning had a bit of low mist, patches of blue, and a rising tide. The water of the famous Sergius Narrows was rushing towards us at 6.8 knots. That seems especially swift when you look down into small standing waves, whirlpools, and glassy elevated lenses of upwelling water. The current ran swift enough to push one navigational aid almost underwater. Later we passed two humpback whales, two fuzzy faced otters, and a Sitka black-tailed deer.
Sitka in sun is a town of spectacular beauty. On the one side it nestles into high mountains blanketed with lush forests, on the other, rocky tree-covered islands scattered through the entrance to the Pacific. Our afternoon was spent exploring this small town. One of the most remarkable sights was the incredible number of salmon making their way up the Indian River past the Raptor Center and Sitka National Historical Park. There were a few chum salmon, but most were pink, more familiarly called “humpies.” When we neared the river we were overtaken by the stench of spawned out salmon that littered the stream sides. The water was dark with “humpies” packed into eddies and quiet places. Pools suddenly came alive with racing fish energized by an unknown stimulus, soon to return to their slow upstream movement. Some seemed in excellent condition, fresh from the sea, vigorously thrashing onward on their way to spawn. Others, covered with patches of white fungus, floated listlessly only days from the once fearsome warriors determined to guard their redds until death. Now, they were only barely able to stay upright.
Some people find this scene a sad one because of so much conspicuous death. Others find it sad because this incredible resource has been squandered by dams, overfishing, and by the siltation that has ruined the gravels of previously pristine spawning habitat. In Alaska the spectacle still plays itself through. Out of this fishy carnage come incredibly rich nutrients for the young salmon-to-be. It feeds the multitudes of intertidal invertebrates, seabirds, eagles, mink, and river otters. Both black and brown bears carry the fish inside them into the forest to fertilize the shrubs and the trees and the small understory plants that the deer eat and on and on. I hope that looking at today’s photograph in Indian Creek shows you a window into a bit of the abundance of life that we witnessed today.
As we made our way toward Sitka, our morning had a bit of low mist, patches of blue, and a rising tide. The water of the famous Sergius Narrows was rushing towards us at 6.8 knots. That seems especially swift when you look down into small standing waves, whirlpools, and glassy elevated lenses of upwelling water. The current ran swift enough to push one navigational aid almost underwater. Later we passed two humpback whales, two fuzzy faced otters, and a Sitka black-tailed deer.
Sitka in sun is a town of spectacular beauty. On the one side it nestles into high mountains blanketed with lush forests, on the other, rocky tree-covered islands scattered through the entrance to the Pacific. Our afternoon was spent exploring this small town. One of the most remarkable sights was the incredible number of salmon making their way up the Indian River past the Raptor Center and Sitka National Historical Park. There were a few chum salmon, but most were pink, more familiarly called “humpies.” When we neared the river we were overtaken by the stench of spawned out salmon that littered the stream sides. The water was dark with “humpies” packed into eddies and quiet places. Pools suddenly came alive with racing fish energized by an unknown stimulus, soon to return to their slow upstream movement. Some seemed in excellent condition, fresh from the sea, vigorously thrashing onward on their way to spawn. Others, covered with patches of white fungus, floated listlessly only days from the once fearsome warriors determined to guard their redds until death. Now, they were only barely able to stay upright.
Some people find this scene a sad one because of so much conspicuous death. Others find it sad because this incredible resource has been squandered by dams, overfishing, and by the siltation that has ruined the gravels of previously pristine spawning habitat. In Alaska the spectacle still plays itself through. Out of this fishy carnage come incredibly rich nutrients for the young salmon-to-be. It feeds the multitudes of intertidal invertebrates, seabirds, eagles, mink, and river otters. Both black and brown bears carry the fish inside them into the forest to fertilize the shrubs and the trees and the small understory plants that the deer eat and on and on. I hope that looking at today’s photograph in Indian Creek shows you a window into a bit of the abundance of life that we witnessed today.